Final Fury: Leg four is now The Adventure Tour
Two days behind on blogging already (booo) so I'll get to it.
Athens, GA
The drive from Fayetteville, NC (not to be confused with Fayetteville, GA—where we're currently staying with one of Jen's family friends) isn't terribly long, but we were probably in the van for two hours more than we needed to be. My amp was still dead and we needed to hit up a repair shop, stat. We found one in Lawrenceville, about an hour west of Athens. Along the way we saw a placed named "European Sports Bar & Grill", but their signage was on a US flag (there's no story there, we just thought it was really funny). We arrived around 3:30 at Gwinnett Music Store to see what the deal was. The circumstance sucked, but it's always pretty awesome whenever you get to stop by a music store on tour (Guitar Center, while useful at times, doesn't count). The folks there were awesome and were able to fix the problem fairly quickly. I expected the worst and was already eyeballing amps, but thankfully my amp just had a couple of burnt out tubes that needed to be replaced.
Arrived at Caledonia Lounge around 5:00pm and loaded in. The place reminded me of 2¢ Plain in St. Louis (which is sadly no longer there). Happy to find out from a few posters that Hallelujah the Hills will be playing there on Friday. We were still incredibly early so we took the time to wander around Athens a bit and grab some coffee. There was an early happy hour set by a band called Nutria. They had some pretty good songs. B-Side Revolution opened up at 10:15. They played a cover of Redhouse (Jimi is always okay in my book). Great Society closed up the night and were pretty brilliant. Some of the stuff was reminiscent of early U2 (in a very subtle way I can't explain), but it put a smile on my face. We met some people—Adrian and Ryan—who were great to talk to. Adrian and I talked about Halloween for a bit—my least favorite Hallmark Holiday, but the conversation was pleasant enough—and she thought about going as Nancy Spungen to a party. Ryan proved to me what a small world this is; he played with the guys from Violet Nine, and we talked about them for a while (all good things, I assure you).
Around 1:30 or so we moseyed down the street to a 24 hour diner simply named The Grill. I didn't have any of their milkshakes (tempted, but not necessary at one in the morning). While keeping a periodic eye on the van—and primarily the treasures within it—we riffed on Michael Stipe's motivations for wanting to break into our van. For whatever reason we all thought the trip to Fayetteville would be about an hour tops. Our dreams were shattered when we exited the establishment at 2:00am. We activated Jane (aka our GPS) and she told us we'd actually be arriving at 4:30. Needless to say, it was a long, rainy drive back and we all failed at staying awake to keep Tommy company.
Clocked out at 5:00am.
Columbus, GA (aka Adventure Day)
Jen and I had to wake up before noon for an interview with OffBeat Magazine in New Orleans. We spoke with Kyle for about twenty minutes and it went really well. Very pleasant and we had a good rapport going. As I've stated in the past, it's always a victory when you avoid the occasional necessary evil of the Unholy Trinity of interview questions: influences, band formation story, and describing your sound. I think the story should be up sometime today or tomorrow.
Columbus, GA (not to be confused with Columbus, OH, where we'll be next week) is only an hour and a half away. We basically ate shit most of the day. Jen's friend has a music room set up downstairs (guitars, bass, drums, and an organ with a leslie attached) so we messed around with stuff there for a bit. Would've liked to record a song or something, but it never came about. We were pretty tired anyway, and anything more involved than dicking around on an instrument would've been too much work. Actually, that's not entirely true. In a fit of extreme boredom, Charles and I started recording 30-second songs (which may or may not be thirty seconds) and were completely made up on the spot. Played Guitar Hero for a bit. Tommy and Charles kept trying to get through Slayer's Raining Blood.
We rolled out at 6. It was pissing down (remnants of the late Hurricane Ida). Thirty minutes into the hour and a half drive, we heard a funny noise. The passenger side wiper was clacking against the window. Nobody thought anything of this... until the wipers just cold stopped. We pulled over to the shoulder and we went outside to inspect what the fuck was going on with the wipers. Being on the side of a highway—cars and massive trucks zipping by at 70+ miles per hour less than two feet away from my person—was probably one of the most frightening moments of my life. Tommy and Charles managed to get the driver's side wiper to work at least, which was enough to get us to a Loves truck stop nearby. We got new wipers and replaced them. The bolt on the right wiper had come loose and just needed to be tightened. Still unexplained: the wipers now only work on High.
Surprisingly enough, we were still on time.
I never know what to expect exactly when a venue's name is suffixed by "Bar & Grill". People give a lot of latitude to the definition. For one thing, I don't think they served food there. The door guy, Donnie, was very nice and let us in through the back way. The store room was host to a variety of things, most notably a mountable plaque with a pair of rubber breasts. The room was smoky and the stage large. There was a quick and terse war of words between Jen and the sound guy. Without provocation he started teasing her in a pretty mean-spirited way—literally, two seconds after introducing himself. This was amicably resolved within fifteen minutes; the dude's been going through stuff in his personal life not worth getting into and he apologized.
After the show we talked to a few people. Our last time in Columbus—when we played at The Loft—was a markedly different experience. This time there was a shroud of sadness over the city that was impossible to escape. Everyone we spoke to wanted to be somewhere other than Columbus. One guy was at the tail end of his marriage, waiting for the big old divorce train to hit him. One other guy we spoke to, Will, was buying us shots in honor of his friend who just got shot at Fort Hood. Still alive, thankfully, but she got popped twice in the chest. It wasn't all sad, though. Some dude named Sed was talking to us for a while and offered his services as our road dog (and if we could fit ourselves in the van, we may have taken him up on his offer). I talked to a guy named Billy. He was recently up in Massachusetts and we were talking about music for a good long while. It was good.
Heard some interesting songs on the jukebox (terrible, yes; but interesting). One was about crashing your girl's car because she just dumped you. I looked that one up today, but I can't be bothered to remember. The other had lines that would make Edward Blake and Dylan Thomas blush ("I'm a vegetarian/I'm not fucking scared of you" and "Shush, girl, don't move your lips/Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips"). I think this group is called 3Oh!3. 303 is the area code for Denver, and they're apparently from Boulder. Boo.
On the way back to Fayetteville, we stopped off the highway for some food (but not before exploring the most massive Burger King any of us had ever seen... will post vid later). There was a choice before us: Dunkin Donuts (not ideal, but acceptable) and Waffle House (DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER). Everyone wanted to do Waffle House; Jen had never been and agreed—if only for the life experience.
It was a regretful decision.
Driving day. Passing through Alabama for the first time in my life. Crashing in Pass Christian, Mississippi before hitting New Orleans tomorrow.
Henry
Athens, GAThe drive from Fayetteville, NC (not to be confused with Fayetteville, GA—where we're currently staying with one of Jen's family friends) isn't terribly long, but we were probably in the van for two hours more than we needed to be. My amp was still dead and we needed to hit up a repair shop, stat. We found one in Lawrenceville, about an hour west of Athens. Along the way we saw a placed named "European Sports Bar & Grill", but their signage was on a US flag (there's no story there, we just thought it was really funny). We arrived around 3:30 at Gwinnett Music Store to see what the deal was. The circumstance sucked, but it's always pretty awesome whenever you get to stop by a music store on tour (Guitar Center, while useful at times, doesn't count). The folks there were awesome and were able to fix the problem fairly quickly. I expected the worst and was already eyeballing amps, but thankfully my amp just had a couple of burnt out tubes that needed to be replaced.
Arrived at Caledonia Lounge around 5:00pm and loaded in. The place reminded me of 2¢ Plain in St. Louis (which is sadly no longer there). Happy to find out from a few posters that Hallelujah the Hills will be playing there on Friday. We were still incredibly early so we took the time to wander around Athens a bit and grab some coffee. There was an early happy hour set by a band called Nutria. They had some pretty good songs. B-Side Revolution opened up at 10:15. They played a cover of Redhouse (Jimi is always okay in my book). Great Society closed up the night and were pretty brilliant. Some of the stuff was reminiscent of early U2 (in a very subtle way I can't explain), but it put a smile on my face. We met some people—Adrian and Ryan—who were great to talk to. Adrian and I talked about Halloween for a bit—my least favorite Hallmark Holiday, but the conversation was pleasant enough—and she thought about going as Nancy Spungen to a party. Ryan proved to me what a small world this is; he played with the guys from Violet Nine, and we talked about them for a while (all good things, I assure you).
Around 1:30 or so we moseyed down the street to a 24 hour diner simply named The Grill. I didn't have any of their milkshakes (tempted, but not necessary at one in the morning). While keeping a periodic eye on the van—and primarily the treasures within it—we riffed on Michael Stipe's motivations for wanting to break into our van. For whatever reason we all thought the trip to Fayetteville would be about an hour tops. Our dreams were shattered when we exited the establishment at 2:00am. We activated Jane (aka our GPS) and she told us we'd actually be arriving at 4:30. Needless to say, it was a long, rainy drive back and we all failed at staying awake to keep Tommy company.
Clocked out at 5:00am.
Columbus, GA (aka Adventure Day)
Jen and I had to wake up before noon for an interview with OffBeat Magazine in New Orleans. We spoke with Kyle for about twenty minutes and it went really well. Very pleasant and we had a good rapport going. As I've stated in the past, it's always a victory when you avoid the occasional necessary evil of the Unholy Trinity of interview questions: influences, band formation story, and describing your sound. I think the story should be up sometime today or tomorrow.
Columbus, GA (not to be confused with Columbus, OH, where we'll be next week) is only an hour and a half away. We basically ate shit most of the day. Jen's friend has a music room set up downstairs (guitars, bass, drums, and an organ with a leslie attached) so we messed around with stuff there for a bit. Would've liked to record a song or something, but it never came about. We were pretty tired anyway, and anything more involved than dicking around on an instrument would've been too much work. Actually, that's not entirely true. In a fit of extreme boredom, Charles and I started recording 30-second songs (which may or may not be thirty seconds) and were completely made up on the spot. Played Guitar Hero for a bit. Tommy and Charles kept trying to get through Slayer's Raining Blood.
We rolled out at 6. It was pissing down (remnants of the late Hurricane Ida). Thirty minutes into the hour and a half drive, we heard a funny noise. The passenger side wiper was clacking against the window. Nobody thought anything of this... until the wipers just cold stopped. We pulled over to the shoulder and we went outside to inspect what the fuck was going on with the wipers. Being on the side of a highway—cars and massive trucks zipping by at 70+ miles per hour less than two feet away from my person—was probably one of the most frightening moments of my life. Tommy and Charles managed to get the driver's side wiper to work at least, which was enough to get us to a Loves truck stop nearby. We got new wipers and replaced them. The bolt on the right wiper had come loose and just needed to be tightened. Still unexplained: the wipers now only work on High.
Surprisingly enough, we were still on time.
I never know what to expect exactly when a venue's name is suffixed by "Bar & Grill". People give a lot of latitude to the definition. For one thing, I don't think they served food there. The door guy, Donnie, was very nice and let us in through the back way. The store room was host to a variety of things, most notably a mountable plaque with a pair of rubber breasts. The room was smoky and the stage large. There was a quick and terse war of words between Jen and the sound guy. Without provocation he started teasing her in a pretty mean-spirited way—literally, two seconds after introducing himself. This was amicably resolved within fifteen minutes; the dude's been going through stuff in his personal life not worth getting into and he apologized.
After the show we talked to a few people. Our last time in Columbus—when we played at The Loft—was a markedly different experience. This time there was a shroud of sadness over the city that was impossible to escape. Everyone we spoke to wanted to be somewhere other than Columbus. One guy was at the tail end of his marriage, waiting for the big old divorce train to hit him. One other guy we spoke to, Will, was buying us shots in honor of his friend who just got shot at Fort Hood. Still alive, thankfully, but she got popped twice in the chest. It wasn't all sad, though. Some dude named Sed was talking to us for a while and offered his services as our road dog (and if we could fit ourselves in the van, we may have taken him up on his offer). I talked to a guy named Billy. He was recently up in Massachusetts and we were talking about music for a good long while. It was good.
Heard some interesting songs on the jukebox (terrible, yes; but interesting). One was about crashing your girl's car because she just dumped you. I looked that one up today, but I can't be bothered to remember. The other had lines that would make Edward Blake and Dylan Thomas blush ("I'm a vegetarian/I'm not fucking scared of you" and "Shush, girl, don't move your lips/Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips"). I think this group is called 3Oh!3. 303 is the area code for Denver, and they're apparently from Boulder. Boo.
On the way back to Fayetteville, we stopped off the highway for some food (but not before exploring the most massive Burger King any of us had ever seen... will post vid later). There was a choice before us: Dunkin Donuts (not ideal, but acceptable) and Waffle House (DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER). Everyone wanted to do Waffle House; Jen had never been and agreed—if only for the life experience.
It was a regretful decision.
Driving day. Passing through Alabama for the first time in my life. Crashing in Pass Christian, Mississippi before hitting New Orleans tomorrow.
Henry
Labels: tourdiary
3 Comments:
Waffle House beats Dunkies hands down every time. You are insane to think otherwise... did you order the pecan waffles? Cuz if you didn't, that's your problem.
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